


The First Steps

by Gwyddelig



Series: Half-Steps and Intervals [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwyddelig/pseuds/Gwyddelig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt never went to spy on the Warblers, never met Blaine, never stood up to Karofsky, and things only got worse. Eight months after the bullying went too far, Kurt returns to McKinley to finish high school and face the school where he was tormented, beaten, and left for dead. The first steps toward the future are those taken out of the shadow of one's past. (See notes inside.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Things you need to know:
> 
> This is a world-rebuilding, background piece for a longer story I am working on.  
> This is not chronologically the first story in the series, but it was the easiest to tackle.  
> Some stories within this series may be dark.  
> This story diverges from canon as of NBK.  
> Prom Queen happened with variations and sans Blaine.  
> Setting is 8 months after Prom Queen.  
> Kurt is the focus of this series.  
> Klaine is endgame for this series.
> 
> While this story doesn't contain any violence, it does reference past violence and if the thought of a character being gay bashed bothers you please be warned.
> 
> Any other questions feel free to PM me -- I could use someone to bounce ideas off of as well. ;)
> 
> This is my first Glee fic...

January 2012

 

William McKinley High School looked the same as it ever had. The cream painted brick-o-block hallways and the beige-lockers with their standard issue magenta combination locks. The plethora of posters and signage boasting clubs and upcoming school events. The closed doors and glass-walled offices.

 

It looked the same, but there was something missing that had been there before and for that Kurt breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Honestly, after everything that had happened (and hadn’t), he was surprised that his parents had allowed him to return. Oh, they hadn’t been happy about it, but Kurt had pleaded his case, insisted that his friends would be there, Finn would be there, to help him, to protect him. ( _“Where were they before, huh, Kurt? Where were they when you needed them before?”_

 

“ _Dad,” he’d insisted, borrowing reason and ignoring his father's worried demand. “If I can’t face the school, if I can’t go back and stand tall, how am I ever suppose to get on with my life and achieve my dreams? How do I expect to go to New York and survive the crowds and the big city, make it on Broadway, if I can’t face a building? I need to go back.”_

 

_There was a heartbeat of time in which his father looked so sad, so afraid and then he'd sighed, resigned._

 

“ _I’m so proud of you, Kurt,” Burt had whispered, gathering his son into his arms and holding on tight. “So, so proud of you.”)_

 

So there he stood, staring down the front hall and gripping tight to his satchel strap – escape not an option since he'd ridden in with Finn as he was not yet allowed to drive. The main office was just a few paces off, he would need to meet with Figgins before the day began, but his first destination was Miss Pillsbury’s. He’d spoken with her the day before – verifying the receipt of his coursework from the bit of homeschool he’d managed to achieve – and was expected to get with her to confirm his schedule for the semester.

 

At least she was nice. And caring. _If flighty and a little fruity_ , Kurt thought with a small smile. Bolstered by the knowledge that at least his early morning would be mildly pleasant, he moved down the silent, student-less halls.

 

Miss Pillsbury was arranging pencils in their cup as he rapped on the doorjamb. “Kurt! Come in!” She piped happily, her copper colored eyes almost comically wide in her sharp, birdlike face. “It’s so good to see you!” she gushed enthusiastically.

 

Before Kurt knew it, she was up out of her chair and hugging him. He froze for a moment, his breathing picking up at the sudden closeness. It was only a split-second, but Emma noticed, pulling back with a questioning expression. “Kurt?” her voice was so small, worried and unsure. “Let’s sit you down, okay?”

 

Before he could protest that he was fine – a little startled but fine – she'd gently guided him to one of the guest chairs, pulling his satchel from him to set it on the floor. “Would you like some water? You’re really pale, did you eat this morning?”

 

Not waiting for a response, she poured him a glass from the pitcher at her desk and pressed it into his hands. He merely stared at it, cheeks flushed in embarrassment at being fussed over for something so trivial. Finished mothering, Emma sat back against her desk, crossing her wrists and clasping her hands. “Are you sure you’re ready to be back, Kurt?” she asked carefully, watching his every action. She wasn't the first person since 'the incident' to treat him like he would break at the slightest upset. And Kurt knew she wouldn't be the last. “It’s okay if you’re not, you know. And it’s okay if it’s not McKinley, too. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

 

“No, but if I want to get my life back then this is something I have to do,” he told her not unkindly. Sue might have nicknamed him Porcelain, but Kurt was determined to prove himself anything but breakable. So what if it might take him time to stop jumping at every loud noise or flinching when suddenly touched. He was a Hummel. He would overcome.

 

Emma hadn’t honestly expected a response, but the quiet words made her smile. “Well, there is that,” she said, nodding. “And that's the kind of attitude that will succeed.”

 

Kurt nodded, taking a breath and meeting her eyes. “I’m not going to let _them_ or this place stop me from getting on with my life,” the flush of embarrassment was waning as he spoke. “They’ve taken enough from me as it is.”

 

“Well said!” Emma cheered, grinning madly. “Alright then Kurt, let’s get this party started, shall we? I have your schedule laid out. Your homeschool work completed the requirements for last year. And while I know you’re not graduating in May and won’t be able to finish most of the courses in Summer School, I figured you’d still want to continue with the AP/Honors diploma path classes you’ve been taking. So I’ve drawn up a schedule based on that. For math and science, both teachers are willing to treat it more like an independent study and work with you on last semester's coursework. The other classes shouldn't be a problem to pick right up on. Let me know if there’s anything you want to change; although there will be some courses we can’t get you into because of the times of your core courses.”

 

For a moment, Kurt stared at the sheet in front of him. Honestly, he'd known that with all the school that he’d missed that there was no way for him to graduate on time, but hearing that even with Summer School (if that had even been an option) that he wouldn’t be graduating in time to go to college in the fall shook him a little. Most of his friends would be gone, leaving McKinley and Lima behind in the pursuit of their futures. Leaving him behind.

 

He’d at least have Tina and Artie and Sam, probably (in all likelihood) Brittany. And maybe, just maybe, with Rachel gone he might get a few solos. _Yeah right,_ Kurt thought bitterly. _Like Mr. Shue was going to give a solo to the high-pitched, gay kid who would be gone before Regionals._

 

That didn’t matter, he told himself, shaking off the melancholy which threatened to derail him from the reason he was at school early.

 

He refocused on the schedule, scanning over the classes Miss Pillsbury had picked out for him. All in all it looked like a good schedule. Econ first thing, which kind of sucked, but it was better to get it out of the way. Then French — Kurt hadn’t even known the school offered a fourth level French class — followed by AP English. His AP Calculus class would be split by his lunch period, which meant the teacher probably would set up to have their last third of the class as a kind of study hall. That would be good, since math wasn’t his strongest subject. His fifth period consisted of AP Physics. Honestly he’d have preferred Bio, but he’d had the Physics teacher for Chem the previous year and had really enjoyed him. For the final class he was scheduled for Government, which he wasn’t looking forward to in the slightest. And as it was a half-credit semester course…

 

“Miss Pillsbury, might we change my sixth period to… something else? I mean, if I have to be here in the fall anyway…”

 

“Sure!” Emma returned brightly, looking as if she had expected and, for some reason, wanted him to ask for changes to be made. “What would you like to take?”

 

That caused Kurt to pause, because really what else was there for him to take? He’d been on the same path with the same courses, designed to elevate him in the eyes of the various colleges he’d be applying to, the entirety of high school. Glee had been a lucky aside and while he didn’t particularly like Mr. Shuester, he was grateful to him. Thinking of Glee…

 

“Does Brad still offer that piano course as an alternative to Concert Band?” Kurt fervently hoped he did. It would be wonderful to spend time playing again and his therapist had mentioned it would improve his dexterity when he told her he played.

 

Emma blinked. “You know, I think he does, though it’s not standard curriculum since it’s a one on one course and there’s rarely call for it. Let me page him and see if he’s still willing to oversee your practicing.”

 

~*~

 

As he left, Kurt felt surprisingly lighter than when he’d entered her office.

 

Brad had been more than willing to oversee Kurt’s practicing – excited to be able to do more than play for the (often ungrateful) Glee club – and Kurt was excited to see what he could learn from the typically silent pianist.

 

His shoulders slumped, however, when he remembered that he needed to stop by and see Figgins before heading off to his first class. He didn’t dislike the man, per se; but as a principle, the person in charge of seeing to the wellbeing of his students, Kurt found the man lacking.

 

Before he could make it there, however, Coach Sylvester's voice rang out, glancing off the walls sharply. “Porcelain, my office, now!”

 

And his morning had been going so well.

 

“Yes, Coach Sylvester?” he asked, stepping inside and waiting for further instruction. Sue was a wildcard. She would either chew you up and spit you out or for some very odd reason, she'd roll over and show you her softer side – there was absolutely no telling which it would be.

 

“Close the door and take a seat, Porcelain,” she ordered, her voice softer though still commanding. Once he had, she tossed her glasses on her desk and continued, “I'm only going to say this once and then we're both going to pretend the words never came out of my mouth, is that understood?”

 

Kurt could only nod as the cheer coach went on, eyes a bit wide as the severe woman's face softened into something almost caring.

 

“First off, let me say this: I am terribly sorry for what happened to you. No one should ever have to suffer the way you have and if there is anything I can do, anything you need, you come to me. I told you before I would be your champion and that still stands. For some reason, far be it from me to understand, I like you, Porcelain. And if you ever tell anyone I said that, I will deny it vehemently. Now get your skinny butt out of my office before you get glitter all over everything.”

 

Shaking his head in bemusement, Kurt hurried out for his final appointment of the morning.

 

~*~

 

Principle Figgin's office door was open when Kurt walked in, nodding to Donna as he passed through the anteroom.

 

“Mr. Hummel!” the Indian man called out cheerfully in greeting, spreading his arms in welcome.

 

“I’m so glad to see you well again, young man!” Figgins piped jubilantly. “Have a seat, please…”

 

~*~

 

The meeting went as well as Kurt could expect. Figgins droning on and on about Kurt’s safety being a priority and how the boy could come to him with anything, and so on. He’d accepted Kurt’s paperwork from the hospital and his clearance from his therapist without so much as a glance before sending him on to his first class.

 

Mrs. Womack’s Economics class was on the far side of the building and Kurt had just enough time to make it through the door before the final bell rang. Despite only having just returned and all the morning hubbub he’d had to deal with, Kurt adamantly refused to be late to class. Even if he had an excuse.

 

Quickly walking over to the petite, gray haired woman sitting behind the large desk, Kurt handed her his schedule. “I just got added this morning. Sorry for the inconvenience,” he offered politely.

 

She merely nodded before directing him to take an open seat. Fortunately the class was a half-credit, semester course and it was the first day.

 

The class was nothing special, just another requirement to take and be done with. Kurt knew a few students from previous classes, but most of them were strangers to him — merely other seniors hoping to escape high school once and for all.

 

Briefly Kurt wished he was in class with any of the other members of New Directions, but his schedule was more rigorous than most theirs, always had been. (The lack of challenging advanced placement courses was the only way Rachel Berry had maintained a 4.0, of that Kurt was certain.)

 

It turned out that his French IV Honors class consisted of one student (himself) assisting the teacher in instructing the French II Honors course and studying on his own when he wasn’t needed. The little bit of power that afforded him over the other students was thrilling. He would be grading their papers, judging them, and offering his expertise in pronunciation, vocabulary, and grammar. All while sweet, little old Mrs. Meacham cooed over him as she was wont to do. Kurt was certain it would be his favorite period of the day.

 

English found him in class with Mike Chang who eagerly greeted him, waving to the empty seat at his right.

 

“I didn’t know you were back!” Mike hissed excitedly. “It’s so good to see you! I’m glad you're back.”

 

Kurt and Mike weren’t exceptionally close, but they both were far too smart and talented to be stuck in this lousy cow-town and both were doing everything in their power to get out. Kurt wasn’t sure how Mike planned to get out. He knew the Asian boy loved to dance, was exceptionally good at it, but he also knew that Mike’s father wanted him to become a doctor. Whatever Mike chose, Kurt knew he’d excel at it — even if it made him miserable.

 

“It’s—“ Kurt hesitated, considering his words. Typically, one would say ‘it’s good to be back’, but really it was a mixed feeling. Instead he settled for “It’s good to see you, too” and left it at that.

 

Mike gave him a sympathetic look filled with understanding, reaching over to squeeze Kurt’s shoulder as the teacher began speaking. Kurt didn't freeze this time, well aware of Mike's intent. He gave the other boy a grateful smile and turned back to the front of the room.

 

Like the rest of New Directions, Mike knew all (okay, maybe not all) about the events which had lead to Kurt’s long absence. He and some of the guys (minus Finn and Puck, for completely different reasons) had been involved in a tussle with Karofsky in Kurt’s defense — unbeknownst to the smaller boy — orchestrated by their girlfriends (okay, by Rachel). Their protectiveness had warmed his heart, even as their injuries had settled a cold lump in his stomach. He hated people getting hurt — even more so, when they got hurt for him.

 

“What do you have next?” Mike asked as the teacher finished scribbling a list of books and stories across the board.

 

“AP Calc,” Kurt replied in a hushed groan. It wouldn't do to draw Mrs. Price's ire on his first day in her class. “It's going to eat me alive, I just know it.”

 

Mike chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Me, too. I mean, I have the same class. I can help you if you need it.”

 

Kurt blinked, “That'd be great. If you have the time.”

 

“Yeah, no problem.”

 

Mrs. Price chose that moment to turn back to the class and call for their attention. She gave the standard welcome back, went over the syllabus, and began in on the reading she'd assigned over break.

 

By the time she was finished, Kurt had a pretty firm understanding of the story they were to analyze and was preparing his notes for the assigned homework. He waved Mike on, as had to stay back for a minute to pick up his textbook and the semester’s reading list, but Mike hung back as well, hoovering in the doorway as Kurt spoke with the teacher.

 

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Kurt told him as they left.

 

“Nah, it’s cool man. We’re going to the same place anyway,” Mike returned, smiling brightly.

 

It was nice to walk to class with someone instead of trying to fight the throng by himself. And Mike had presence — he might have been in Glee club, but he was on the football team and the football team ruled the school, even if the hockey jocks didn't think so.

 

As they stopped by Kurt’s locker, they ran into Rachel – who all but squealed as she flung her arms around Kurt’s neck. “Oh my God, Kurt! You’re back! You didn’t tell me you were back! How are you doing? You still look so thin! Don’t worry, sweetie, we’ll take care of you! And your hair! God I’ve missed you, Kurt!” She rambled into his ear at high speed, barely pausing for breath.

 

“Rachel,” Kurt said tersely, pushing her away. “You just saw me last weekend.”

 

“Exactly!” she chided. “I just saw you last weekend and you didn’t tell me you were coming back!”

 

Kurt looked down, a little abashed as he mumbled. “I hadn’t decided yet.”

 

Rachel’s eyes watered and she looked as if she might throw herself at him again. “Oh, sweetie,” she cooed instead, reaching out a hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes. “You’re hiding again,” she whispered, frowning with a deep sadness. Kurt really hated how she could be so perceptive at times (and so oblivious at others); and yet it was also one of the reasons he loved her.

 

“I hate to break up the reunion,” Mike said in apology. “But we’ve got to get to class and so do you.”

 

Kurt pulled himself the rest of the way out of Rachel's grasp a little reluctantly. “I’ll see you at Glee practice, if not before,” he promised her, unsure if their paths would cross again before the end of the day.

 

She smiled and nodded vigorously. “Of course!” she piped, giving him another look full of understanding before heading off in the direction of her own class.

 

“You really don’t have to walk with me,” Kurt insisted as they walked along. “I know I’ve been gone a while, but I can still find my way around.”

 

“What’re friends for?” Mike replied blythly, still smiling happily as the rounded the corner and headed into Mrs. Franklin’s classroom.

 

~*~

 

It wasn’t until lunch time rolled around that Kurt found out that, apparently, all the Glee guys had been wrangled (by Finn — who was taking this big brother thing a little too far, in Kurt’s opinion) into acting as bodyguards of a sort should Kurt return to McKinley.

 

Mike had headed off to have lunch with Tina, leaving Kurt to pack up his work to head off to the choir room (and hopefully some alone time) when Puck appeared at the door.

 

“Hey, you wanna catch lunch? My treat,” Puck offered, leaning against the jamb lazily, dark eyes watching Kurt move with affected nonchalance. “I was thinking of swinging by Five Guys.”

 

“You know we’re not supposed to leave campus for lunch, right?” Kurt said, buckling the flap of his bag. Even though he’d be returning to the room, he wasn’t about to leave his belongings lying about for anyone to mess with. His lead tormentors might be out of the picture, but this was still high school and Kurt was still _that gay, Glee kid_.

 

“Yeah, so? When has that ever stopped me?” True enough. Puck had always done what Puck wanted to do and damn the consequences – for himself or anyone else. It was the fact that Puck was including him in his escapades that surprised Kurt. Generally the self-proclaimed Jewish Badass ignored anyone who wasn't Finn or whichever chick he was currently looking to score with. “‘Sides, you and me haven’t really talked, like, ever. And I was kinda shitty to you before and well…”

 

“It’s not like you beat me up. You threw me in dumpsters, Noah,” Kurt sighed. “Trust me, it’s not my biggest concern. If you're looking for forgiveness, you got that a long time ago.”

 

Puck gave him a look that said he thought the younger boy was full of shit. “I threw you in dumpsters. I slushied you. I threw pee balloons at you and nailed your lawn furniture to your roof. I even shoved you into the lockers a few times. And probably a ton of other things I don't remember doing. Kurt, I’d been picking on you for years before Glee threw us together and made me see things differently. And even then, I didn’t always treat you fairly. Hell, if it wasn’t for Glee, I might have been one of the ones who—“

 

“Beat the living shit out of me and left me to die?” Kurt asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah,” Puck grimaced, his face sad with the thought.

 

Kurt shook his head. “I sincerely doubt that. You’re a good person, Noah. You might not always do good things, but you’re a good person. Now, if we’re done making you feel better about yourself and our shitty past, can I go? I’d like to eat my lunch before I have to start thinking about numbers and figures again.”

 

“Then how ‘bout I eat with you,” Puck suggested, following Kurt as he made his way out of the classroom. “I brought some latkes my mom made. ‘Bout the only thing she can make, really.”

 

With a frown, Kurt stopped and turned, leveling a narrowed glare at the older boy. “What’s the game, Puckerman? First Mike’s walking me to class, now you’re trying to buy me lunch? What, have all the Glee guys suddenly gone gay or is there something I’m missing?”

 

Puck sighed, caving easily. “I told him you were too smart for it to work.”

 

“Told who?” Kurt demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Finn, dude. He made all us guys promise to look out for you if you decided to come back. Actually, we were supposed to be protecting you at Prom, too, but…” Puck admitted, looking ashamed and more than a little haunted. “You didn’t see yourself, man. I was supposed to walk you out. I was supposed to be there. But then you slipped out. I went looking for you, hoping you'd just gone to the bathroom or something. When I found you... I almost puked. There was, just, blood all over the place. I panicked, started screaming for help before I remembered to call 911.”

 

Kurt shivered, his gut clenching. He didn't remember anything from that night and he didn't want to. Finn had told him what had happened. The write-in votes, being named Prom Queen, running off in embarrassed panic, standing tall and accepting the crown... But to Kurt, it was like the story had happened to someone else. The part no one had told him about, though he could easily guess at, was the aftermath.

 

“Then everyone was rushing out and there were lights and—“

 

“Stop!” Kurt all but yelled, breathing heavily as he hugged himself tighter. He didn't want to hear it, couldn't hear it.

 

Puck fell silent, startled. “Sorry, man,” he offered, contrite. “Look, how ‘bout we have lunch and you can tell me about the latest, uh, Mark Anthony or whatever it is.”

 

Kurt had to laugh at that, the sound wavering weakly as he took deep, steadying breaths. “No offense, Puck, but I really would like to be alone.”

 

The older boy looked like he would argue, but changed his mind, nodding. “Okay, dude, that’s cool. Just let me walk you to wherever at least? Finn might not be the brightest cookie, but he’s big enough to clock me a good one if he wanted to.”

 

Sighing, Kurt conceded. As annoying as it was, it was nice to know his friends cared about him.

 

They were quiet as Puck walked him to the choir room. Noah not really knowing what to say and Kurt enjoying the quiet of the empty hallways.

 

Honestly, with Karofsky and Azimio gone, he didn’t have near as much to worry about and it would have been nice if he could just get on with his life. It didn’t hurt, he figured, to let his friends feel like they were helping him out in some way — especially since Puck obviously felt guilty about what had happened.

 

“We’re here,” the older boy piped up, stopping and breaking Kurt out of his thoughts.

 

“So we are,” he agreed, making to head into the dark, empty classroom only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Are you sure you want to have lunch alone? Cause I can hang out,” Puck offered again.

 

Kurt shook his head. “No, go have lunch. I’ll be fine.”

 

Puck hesitated before nodding and heading off toward the cafeteria. He stopped before he'd made it five feet, turning back to look at Kurt. “You know, even if Finn hadn't insisted, we got your back. You're my bro and I take care of what's mine,” he said seriously, his dark eyes intense in his promise. With that he continued on his way, leaving Kurt watching his retreating back in mild shock.

 

~*~

 

The rest of the day was much the same. Mike followed him to Physics, but he was gratefully on his own to head back to the choir room for his session with Brad.

 

It was truly wonderful to sit at the piano again, working out fingerings and playing scales so Brad could assess his level and determine what they would be working on for the semester. The pianist was happily surprised at Kurt’s skill, deciding they could begin working on a few more complicated songs — ones that would have Kurt stretching to reach the notes and improve his dexterity.

 

“I’d say you were concert level already,” Brad commented as they paused between songs, taking a moment to stretch and relax. They'd discussed ideas for lesson plans and goals, taking into account Kurt's desire for a return to the more formal training he'd had to give up when the Hummels could no longer afford to pay for lessons. “How do you feel about classical compositions?”

 

Kurt shrugged. “I’ve learned quite a few, but I’m really more interesting in show tunes or contemporary music. I don't mind working on classical pieces, though. I know there are some really challenging ones out there.”

 

Brad nodded. “Well, I’ll see what I can turn up. Feel free to bring in your own pieces, too. Anything you’re interested in working on. If you can't find sheet music, we'll see about writing out some arrangements and add that to the cirriculum.”

 

They played a while longer, Kurt excited about how things were turning out. Learning arrangements would be another feather in his cap when he applied to NYADA in the fall and maybe it would tip the scales just that little bit more in his favor.

 

~*~

 

Kurt took a seat on the risers after he and Brad finished, watching as the other glee club members trickled in. They seemed happy to see him, though not surprised — news of his return had obviously spread. Mercedes, and Tina offered him the expected happy hugs, prattling on about missing him and bemoaning the fact that Kurt hadn't been there to rebuff Rachel's attempts at taking over the glee club. Brittany exclaimed happily about having her unicorn back and insisted on sitting next to him. Even Santana’s greeting was less acerbic than usual.

 

“Well if it isn’t the pretty pony come home to the stable,” she sniped, smiling and hugging him close.

 

“It’s nice to see you too, Santana,” Kurt grinned back. He’d never admit it aloud, but he actually liked Santana. Even if she was a bitch most of the time – at least she was honest.

 

The boys he had seen, save for Sam who seemed unsure as to whether to hug him or pat him on the back – settling instead for offering up a low fist for Kurt to bump awkwardly.

 

“Alright, everyone!” Mr. Shue called out, entering the room. He stopped suddenly, eyes going wide as a grin broke across his face. Obviously no one had bothered to inform _him_ of Kurt’s return. “Kurt! You’re back!” He said, as if it weren’t obvious.

 

The thirty-something year-old teacher seemed to search for something more to say before giving up and turning to the rest of the group. “Well, we have a lot of work to do to get ready for Regionals, so let’s get started with this week’s lesson.”

 

At least that was normal. He had hardly expected Mr. Shue to make a big deal about his return, but even so it stung a little to be dismissed so quickly. Kurt knew full well who the teacher's favorites were and neither person's name began with K.

 

He watched placidly as the man turned to the whiteboard and scribbled out the week's topic. To be perfectly honest, Kurt hated most of what Mr. Shue deemed ‘lessons’. There was rarely a point and not a thing challenging about the subjects their sponsor chose. But Kurt loved to sing, even if it was backup for Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson. And singing was even more important to him now, after all that had happened – something he was grateful for.

 

As Will finished and turned back to the gathered students, Kurt spoke up. “Mr. Shue, if I may?”

 

There was a hush as Will capped his marker and nod, almost reluctantly, for Kurt to take the floor.

 

Standing, Kurt cleared his throat, hands clasped in front of him almost nervously. It had been so long since he’d spoken to these people as a collective group that, even though he knew they were his friends, having their eyes on him was a bit nerve wracking.

 

“I just wanted to say thank you for all the cards and well wishes. I’ve been lucky to have such a wonderful group of friends to support me and help me through. It’s good to be back and just… well, thank you,” he finished, sitting back down before his cheeks could turn any more red than they already were. It really was good to be back, maybe not at McKinley, but with his friends, in this room.

 

Mercedes reached over and hugged him again, running her fingers through his hair sweetly. “We missed you, boo. Glad to have you back.”

 

“Well said,” Will agreed — and did this man not have an original bone in his whole body? Kurt supposed not as the topic on the board was a rehash of a previous ‘lesson’ and seriously over done. Well, at least there would be singing.

 

~*~

 

“Hey, kiddo, how was your first day back?” Burt asked as Kurt slipped onto one of the stools at the kitchen bar.

 

Grabbing a peach from the dish, Kurt shrugged. “It was okay, I guess. I mean, the guys walked me from class to class and I have a lot of homework already, but it went surprisingly well. No slushies, no being shoved into the lockers, no name calling,” he shrugged again. “I like to pretend they forgot about me and things will keep going smoothly, but I’m a realist and I know it can’t last forever.”

 

Burt reached out and rubbed his son’s shoulder. “But you can enjoy it while it does last. I’m glad you had a good day.”

 

Smiling, Kurt looked up at his father, the one person in the entire world who knew him and loved him unreservedly. “Me too, Dad.”

 


End file.
